


The Great Unspoken

by Dammit_Hawke



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, Gen, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-24
Updated: 2014-12-24
Packaged: 2018-03-03 06:29:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2841359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dammit_Hawke/pseuds/Dammit_Hawke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After her incarceration, Su does come to visit Kuvira quite often.</p><p>The first few times they’re silent, just staring at each other. Su only agreed to come on Baatar’s insistence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Unspoken

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to tumblr. This was meant to be a stand alone drabble, though I might end up continuing it. Comments appreciated, even if it's just to yell at me.

After her incarceration, Su does come to visit Kuvira quite often.

The first few times they’re silent, just staring at each other. Su only agreed to come on Baatar’s insistence.

The guards whisper about the once leader, now in chains she can’t hope to bend, and the fact that none of them have heard her speak a word since her trial.

"They say she used to have a silver tongue," one of them would say, only for the other to snort and cut a glance at her.

"They might as well have cut her tongue out, it seems."

It was through Baatar that Su heard of this. He’d had a soft spot for the girl he’d watched grow into a woman, even through his own muddled feelings of betrayal at her actions. H’d tried to get some answers — but to his knowledge, the only words she ever uttered any more were the occasional “please” or “no”. He’d never had Su’s knack for talking to people; give him a blueprint and he could find his way around anything. But Kuvira was as much a mystery now as any stranger on the street — and that frightened the aging man.

Su had enough on her mind, worrying about getting her city back in order and helping where she could with other independant stated just getting on their feet. Concern for someone she hadn’t even begun to forgive just didn’t seem in the cards.

So when she came, they’d sit.

She’d stare.

She’d try and find some bit, any bit, of the girl she’d taken in. The girl she’d taught and trained.

Instead she found a shell.

Each visit the contrast seemed more clear. The shadows under her eyes grew darker, she grew thinner, her hair continued to find itself more and more matted.

She remembered walking in on Kuvira, once, just before bed. The bits of her skin Su could see peeking from under Kuvira’s pajamas were red from a scaldingly hot bath and the brutal scrubbing she subjected herself to. Her hair, still wet and reaching past her waist, would be in her hand as she meticulously pulled a brush through it. Any tangle or snag was met with frustration and swiftly dealt with. Any split end was trimmed on sight. Su would watch silently from the doorway as her charge righted ever imperfection imaginable before carefully pulling it back and plaiting it into a braid — not a flyaway in sight. Occasionally, this would be where Suyin would reveal herself and insist on helping. It took a year or two for her to actually gain enough trust for the offer to be accepted, though.

It seemed like more then a distant memory, now.

Still, on her seventh visit, Su arrived with a small bundle. The guards seemed skeptical about permitting it, but she insisted.

They allowed her in and spoke quietly to one of the. They gave her a doubtful look, until their companion reminded them of Su’s station. Bowing her head, the guard excused herself and Su joined Kuvira at the long, heavy wooden table her chains were attached to. Visiting hours were always met here, where there was no furniture she could bend or hope to lift.

Su took her seat and slid her bundle across the table to Kuvira.

"You’re a mess." She stated simply.

Kuvira stared back at her long and hard before looking down at lump-filled handkerchief inches from her hands. Seconds passed, then minutes, before she finally set about untying the gift.

A single wooden brush and a green ribbon, just like the ones she would use years ago. Her hands fell flat on the table, like the sight stole all energy from them, and she finally looked back to Suyin.

"No."

It was the first thing she’d said in two weeks — likely the last she’d say for a while. Su hated how dry and unused her voice sounded, like air just scraping through her throat.

"Yes." Su straightened in her seat, meeting Kuvira’s eyes with the determination she always had when she knew she would get her way.

Kuvira didn’t get the chance to deny her again — the door opened before she could, the guard Suyin had excused stepping in slowly, carefully, with a glass bowl of water balanced in her arms. Suyin stood to meet her, nodding and taking it to place beside Kuvira on the table. She barely paid the young guard a second glance as she took the towels from her arm and returned to Kuvira’s side.

"You looked almost this bad the day I found you." Su murmured, carefully wetting one of the towels in the bowl as she kneeled beside the other woman. "You were younger… frightened… And a mess."

Kuvira frowned; it wasn’t something she preferred to remember, but she didn’t seem to have much choice at the moment. She turned her head away, at least, so she didn’t have to see Su. It did her no good, of course. Su took her chin in her weathered hands and turned her head, using the damp rag to begin gently cleaning her.

The silence returned, interrupted only when Su dipped the towel in the bowl again. She looked cleaner soon enough, though she was still a distant shadow of her former self.

"Your hair was in better shape, though." Su said absently, finally turning her attention to the tangled mass. Starting from the tips, Su began pulling the brush through Kuvira’s hair with the gentle touch of a woman long used to helping her kids with the very task.

It was familiar. Almost too familiar. Kuvira had to screw her eyes shut to keep from locking eyes on either of the guards. Evenings in Zaofu sang through her head when she was too tired from school and her mother would do just this, whispering stories about old benders and the nations.

Her heart ached, her nails dug in to the palms of her hands, and she fought the pressure she could feel building up behind her eyes.

It took longer then Su predicted it would — and involved cutting out a hopeless clump or two — but eventually she’d gotten all the knots out of Kuvira’s hair, leaving it to hang down the back of her chair in a dull, but manageable, stream.

"There. Now isn’t that better." Su admired her work, not surprised when Kuvira seemed still determined to ignore her.

Not one to be put off by a lack of reaction, Su moved on to her next task. Splitting Kuvira’s hair into threes was simple, easy even. She doubted it had actually been braided in years; as the Great Uniter, Kuvira seemed much more inclined to use the more militaristic bun instead. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to twist it into that fashion. If she wanted a reminder, she’d rather see her in the style she used when she was still worth redemption.

Maybe she hadn’t forgiven her, yet, but maybe it was still possible. Or maybe she could at least make peace with the part of herself that wished it were possible. Either way, it was nice to do this simple task in the mean time.

The ribbon was the final touch — one she almost couldn’t get within the walls without trimming it shorter. But it did its job well, holding the braid in place. Su stood back to admire it before nodding her approval. She moved around the table to collect her things, only to pause when she noticed the brush clutched tight in Kuvira’s hands, her knuckles white with the strain of her grip.

A few heartbeats passed before Kuvira looked up at Su, shocking her with how red the younger girl’s eyes had become with unshed tears. She clutched the brush to her chest, as if afraid to let it go.

Her face almost softened, but Kuvira was already turning to one of the guards, tapping the table and making a writing motion.

"Please," she whispered when the guards just exchanged a doubtful look. One sighed and nodded to the other.

Reluctant to appease her, he stepped forward to place a peace of paper and a piece of charcoal on the table. She grappled for them, though she still refused to let the brush go, even as she began scribbling determinedly on the paper.

Suyin’s brow knit in confusion as she watched, but at that angle she couldn’t quite catch what was being written. It took a few moments, just long enough for Su to grow weary of what it might say, She’d just let herself look up at the guards when she felt a tug on her sleeve, the paper being waved in her face.

Su took it, but as soon as her eyes flickered over the message the blood drained from her face.

 _I know he won’t accept it—_  
Will you care for your son’s child  
When they take it from me?

"Child…" She looked back to Kuvira, who was holding out the brush to her.  It didn’t take long to do the mental math — of course it hadn’t been long since she’d been here. Certainly not long enough that she’d be showing by now. Even so, her raggedy clothes weren’t exactly form fitting.

"Please," Kuvira repeated, barely audible.

Su’s hand found the table to keep herself up, waiting for the shock to pass.

Numbly, she gave a nod and took the brush from her; the informal sealing of a contract.

This would only be the beginnings of her visits, she was sure.


End file.
